“For selling forbidden literature.”
We began talking about the Revolution. I told him my opinion, that the evil was all in ourselves; and that such an enormous power as that of the Government cannot be destroyed by force. “Evil outside ourselves will only be destroyed when we have destroyed it within us,” said I.
“That is so, but not for a long time.”
“It depends on us.”
“I have read your book on revolution.”
“It is not mine, but I agree with it.”
“I wished to ask you for some of your books.”
“I should be very pleased. … Only I’m afraid they may get you into trouble. I’ll give you the most harmless.”
“Oh, I don’t care! I am no longer afraid of anything. … Prison is better for me than this! I am not afraid of prison. … I even long for it sometimes,” he said sadly.
“What a pity it is that so much strength is wasted uselessly!” said I. “How people like you destroy your own lives! … Well, and what do you mean to do now?”
“I?” he said, looking intently into my face.
At first, while we talked about past events and general topics, he had answered me boldly and cheerfully; but as soon as our conversation referred to himself personally and he noticed my sympathy, he turned away, hid his eyes with his sleeve, and I noticed that the back of his head was shaking.
And how many such people there are!